


Room(soul)mates

by untimelyideasforstories



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 16:44:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 5,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14382795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/untimelyideasforstories/pseuds/untimelyideasforstories
Summary: Bucky doesn’t really believe in soulmates. But when Steve tricks him into becoming your roommate, it sends things down a path he never thought he’d go down.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so i've decided i'm gonna post my fics here and on tumblr :) so right now i'm adding absolutely /everything/ i've written! enjoy

She has paint everywhere.

Splattered along her cheeks like tiny, colourful freckles. Smudged on her forehead and in her hair like a child’s finger painting. Streaked along her jaw in vibrant strokes, like she was recreating the Northern Lights on her face.

“Hello?” She asks again, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Uh- I- Uhm…” How on Earth is he supposed to speak English when he’s staring at the face of a literal goddess? 

She giggles - a tinkling that reminds him of the wind chimes his mother had hanging in the window - and starts talking again.

“Do you not speak English? Parlez-vous Français?” She giggles again when his jaw hits the floor and he groans out a quiet;

“Fuck me…”

Her face flushes a light pink. “You’d have to take me out to dinner first, young man.”

He continues gawking.

“No but really… Do you speak English?? Are you an exchange student? Hello!? Are you okay?”

“Uh… Sorry.” He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m new here.”

A door closes from somewhere in the hall, and Steve walks into view.

“Oh, hey Stevie. He yours?” You ask with a cocked brow, gesturing to Bucky with your paintbrush.

Steve chuckles at the blush creeping up Bucky’s neck.

“Yeah, he’s mine.”

“Oh! I’ve heard so much about you!” You turn to call over your shoulder, “Tash! Steve and his friend are here!”

You get no answer.

“She must’ve snuck out the fire escape again.” You crinkle your nose and Bucky’s heart jumps. “She actually rooms with Clint, but I had her on house arrest until she finished some project she had due on Monday. She’s craftier than she gets credit for.” You chuckle.

“I know.” At your confused look he says, “We go to the same gym.” 

“Fair enough. I’m Y/N, by the way.” You tuck your paintbrush behind your ear and extend your hand for him to shake. He does, noting the callouses on your finger tips and palms.

“I’m Bucky.” You do it again, crinkle your nose, but this time in distaste.

“Bucky?” You question. “Is that a middle name? Nickname maybe?”

Both he and Steve chuckle.

“My middle name’s Buchanan. Steve never liked James, and so Bucky was born.”

“See, I like James.” He’s forgotten how to breathe. The way you say his name, tongue caressing every letter, makes everything stand at a still. “It suits you,” You state with a confident nod.

“I- Thanks, I guess?” He responds, finally remembering to breathe.

“Um, do you want to come in?” You move to the side, giving him a clear view of the studio apartment you call home.

“What’s with art majors and studios?” He wonders aloud, causing you to laugh. He already loves the sound.

“I was actually a theater major before I decided to change. I’ve had this studio since day one. Also, how did you know I’m an art major? I don’t recall telling you.”

He flushes. “You’ve kinda got paint all over your face.”

“Oh, that’s normal,” Steve pipes up. You gently hit him on the arm.

“Says you! You sometimes come in looking like a raccoon with all the charcoal around your eyes!”

“Anyways, I’m gonna go get your bags, Buck.”

“Buck? A nickname for a nickname? Come on, Steve.”

They both laugh.

“So, bags?”

You finally manage to heave the last of Bucky’s crap up the stairs and into the hall, collapsing dramatically in your doorway.

“Maybe I should start gyming with you and Tasha, Jesus,” You say, chest heaving.

“Don’t die yet, Y/N. We still have to get his stuff in your apartment.”

“Wait, what? Her apartment??” Bucky exclaims, picking himself up off of the stairs. “You said-”

“I lied,” Steve states, shrugging his shoulders and glancing at you.

“Wait a minute. You didn’t tell him he was living with me?” You look at Steve, incredulous, and flop back onto the floor. “Oh my God.”

“Surprise?” Steve says weakly.

You both groan.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn’t really believe in soulmates. But when Steve tricks him into becoming your roommate, it sends things down a path he never thought he’d go down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have written side ships in here, and if you don’t like them please ignore and move on. I’m not here to deal with hate, I’m here to do what I enjoy. <3

When you finally heave the last of Bucky’s crap into your apartment, you fall onto the plush rug in the lounge room, wishing it would swallow you whole.

“That rug looks like it’s swallowing you whole.”

You side-eye Bucky, who’s perched on the arm of the couch. “I wish it would.”

“Come on now, I’m not that awful.”

“No, you aren’t.” You shift to glare at Steve, who gives you a sheepish wave. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell him.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Not that big of a deal? Steve, he doesn’t know me, probably hasn’t ever roomed with a girl before, and looks like James Dean reincarnate!”

Bucky quirks an eyebrow at your last statement, smirking.

“Quit it, James. That wasn’t that much of a compliment.”

“It kinda was.”

“You can shut the holy hell up, Steve. What I meant by that was I’m gonna have the entire male-thirsty population of this campus and city surround on my doorstep, all for the chance of getting in his pants. And taking one look at Barnes tells me he’s quite the ladies man, or man’s man, or both!”

The two boys laugh.

You run your hands over your face. “Okay, I’ve had it. Steve, you’re gonna leave. James, you’re gonna start unpacking. I’m gonna take a fucking nap.”

“Language.”

You squint at Steve. “Fuck off.”

“Hooooooho,” Bucky says, looking between you and Steve. “Do I sense some sexual tension?”

“Steve’s as gay as me,” You say, crosing your arms over your chest.

“I’m bi…”

“That’s the fucking point, asshat. Jesus Christ!”

“I hear an irritated Y/N, and that means I need to get my boyfriend the holy hell outta here.” Tony sticks his head in the door, grinning in your direction and grabbing Steve before hightailing down the hall.

You sigh and flop back into the fluff of the rug, covering your face with your hands. “You know what, screw it. I’m taking a nap right. Fucking. Here.”

“Whatever you say, doll.”

“What did you just call me?” You peak at him through your fingers, feeling your face heating up underneath them.

“It’s just an affectionate term, don’t get your panties in a knot.”

Now you can feel your ears getting red.

This is gonna be a looong semester. You think to yourself, finally closing your eyes and drifting off into the welcoming darkness of sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn’t really believe in soulmates. But when Steve tricks him into becoming your roommate, it sends things down a path he never thought he’d go down.

When you wake up, the soft colours of the sunset are filtering in through your windows and Bucky’s sitting against the wall, playing the guitar.

Wait, playing the guitar? Oh boy.

“Thought you’d never wake up.”

You scoff. “You wish.”

“Not at all.”

You stretch, arching your back, and can feel his eyes on you. You quietly smirk to yourself.

“Do you wanna order pizza? It’s takeout night.”

“Takeout night?” He questions, raising his eyes from the strings of his guitar.

“Oh, right. I have a set of house rules. Friday’s are takeout nights, because Saturday’s are grocery days.”

He shrugs, focusing on his guitar again. “Fair enough.”

“You’re not gonna ask about the other house rules?”

“I mean, sure.”

You shoot him a confused look. “We’re gonna be living together. In the same apartment. For a loooong time. You might wanna make an effort.”

“Right, sorry. Forgot girls were like that.”

“Excuse me? I can make your life difficult for you. I’m trying to be nice, and helpful. Just want to make sure you and I aren’t trying to kill each other all the time.”

“Okay.”

“Are all musicians like this?” You wonder aloud. “Oh wait, yeah. I used to work with a whole bunch of ‘em. Assholes, every last one.” You turn your gaze to Bucky. “Seems to be no exception to that rule.”

He scoffs.

“I can literally throw you out on the street right now, don’t test me Barnes.’

“What makes musicians so awful?”

“They’re stuck up assholes who think they’re entitled to everything they lay eyes on.” You watch his eyes rake your form and pull a disgusted face, missing the mischief in his eyes. “And here I was thinking I’d met a decent guy,” You mutter under your breath.

“I can be a decent guy, I swear. I’m sorry, I was just testing your breaking point, that’s all.” He sounds almost pleading, and you turn your head to him so fast you swear you’ve got whiplash.

“What? Where the fuck did the sudden change come from?”

“I haven’t always had great experiences with art majors, I got defensive.”

“I guess we’re even then.”

“What? You never said…”

“I’d had a bad experience with a musician? Didn’t think you’d care. But yeah, my last girlfriend was a musician. She was also a bully,” You say, playing with the dried paint on your shirt.

“A bully?” He’s probing, wanting to try and make good. You sigh, turning to look at the couch rather than him.

“She was pretty awful. Verbally abusive. Thought she could do what she wanted because I was her girlfriend. She cheated and I dumped her. We were supposed to be soulmates.” You will the tears in your eyes not to fall, staring intently at the stitching on the couch.

“That is pretty awful.”

“Bad experiences with an art major?” You prompt, finally looking back at him.

He gives you a gentle smile. “Another time. Right now we should order pizza.”

You offer him a smile back and pull yourself off the floor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn’t really believe in soulmates. But when Steve tricks him into becoming your roommate, it sends things down a path he never thought he’d go down.

You’re sitting on the floor again, pizza box perched on the coffee table and watching Brooklyn 99 when Bucky speaks.

“So, those house rules?”

You pause the episode, spinning to face him and placing your pizza box in your lap.

“Right,” You state. “So, basically… Friday is takeout day, Saturday is grocery day. No exceptions. We both go grocery shopping together, and make up a list before we go. Wear whatever the hell you want around the house, as long as your modesty is covered.”

He smirks.

“I’m not tolerating sheer boxer briefs, Barnes. No matter how good you think you look.”

Bucky snorts, trying not to drop his pizza on the couch.

“Sunday is cleaning day. We tell the other when we have assignments and projects, so we know not to disturb one another. Okay, see the speaker set in the corner?” Bucky nods. “First in, first served. Unless one of us has an assignment. Also, touch those vinyls, you die.”

Bucky widens his eyes. “You have vinyls? Does that mean you have a record player?”

“No, not at all. I have vinyls for the aesthetic.” You roll your eyes. “Of course I’ve got a record player. It’s hooked up to the speaker.”

“Oh, good. I’ve got my own vinyls too.”

He watches your eyes brighten. “Really? We’re gonna have the best jam sessions, holy crap.”

He nods, chuckling.

“Oh, last thing. You break it, you replace it. Also, if we’re ever planning on bringing someone back, we have to give the other a heads up, so they can disappear for the night. And they have to disinfect the place the next day.”

Bucky laughs again. “Deal.”

You get up, putting your leftover pizza in the fridge, and head to your room.

“I’m gonna hit the hay. Have a good night, James. Watch any more Brooklyn 99 without me and I’ll poison your coffee.”

“Yes ma’am.” He fake salutes as you disappear, leaving him to smile into his glass of water.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn’t really believe in soulmates. But when Steve tricks him into becoming your roommate, it sends things down a path he never thought he’d go down.

It’s been a week since Bucky first moved in, and everything is great. Until it happens.

What will be known as the great tragedy of Friday Afternoon, Week 1.

You run to Natasha’s apartment, flinging yourself into her room and awaiting arms.

“Woah, woah. Slow down, what’s going on?” She immediately asks, sensing you being on the brink of tears.

“God, I hate life. Life is awful and fate is out to get me.”

“I’m sure that’s not the ca-”

“He’s my soulmate. And he’s taking a girl out for dinner tonight. Who’s not me.” The tears start falling now, soaking Natasha’s shirt.

“Oh, Y/N,” She breathes. “I don’t…”

“I know, I know. You don’t understand. Lucky ace. At least you have a platonic soulmate who actually knows,” You mumble. Natasha maneuvers you onto the bed, sitting your head in her lap. She begins playing with your hair, trying everything to calm you down.

“It’ll be okay. I’m sure of it.”

“How can I even stand to face him? Tash, we live in the same apartment. The same apartment he’s gonna bring that girl home to.”

“You’ll be fine, I promise. How about you and I spend a fuck tonne more time with each other, hm?”

You nod, sniffling. “I- I just… He doesn’t even know. He obviously hasn’t gotten the mark yet, or, or maybe…” You choke on a sob, and Natasha sits you up and pulls you to her chest. “Maybe I’m not even his,” You whisper. Natasha takes your face in her hands, wiping away your tears.

“How about we go scout this bitch, see who she is. See the competition.” She winks and you manage to give her a weak smile.

“Yeah, sure.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn’t believe in soulmates. But when Steve tricks him into becoming your roommate, it sends things down a path he never thought he’d go down.

You get all dressed up, borrowing some of Natasha’s clothes. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you nearly begin crying again.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Tash.”

“Of course you can. That man is your soulmate, and you need to make sure it stays that way,” She says softly, clasping your necklace for you. “You look beautiful.”

You arrive at the restaurant, trying to keep your breathing even and steady.

You and Natasha take a seat in the back corner.

“They’re not here yet,” Natasha says, watching your eyes dart around the room. “But we’ll see when they are. Good vantage point.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” You say, for the second time that night.

Natasha puts a steady hand on your back. “Of course you can. You’re strong, and you can do this. Let’s get food.” You nod.

It’s not until a few seconds later, as you’re scanning the menu, that Natasha squeaks out, “I think we should go, Y/N.” You lift your head to look at her, and follow her eyes.

Everything comes to a stand still. Everything gets quiet.

You can hear Natasha urgently whispering that you need to go, but it’s too late.

Bucky is here.

Bucky is here with your abusive ex.

Bucky is here with your abusive ex and not you.

Bucky is here with your abusive ex and not you and he looks happy.

Bucky is here with your abusive ex and not you and he looks happy and you need to get out. 

Bucky is here with your abusive ex and not you and he looks happy and you need to get out and you need air desperately.

You launch out of your seat, hurriedly weaving through tables and people and toward the door.

Bucky spots you, looks confused for a few fleeting seconds, but she drags him away and to their table before he can say anything.

You fling open the door and rush out, letting the dam break as you sit in the gutter, Natasha’s arms around you.

People are giving you weird looks, sympathetic looks, as you openly sob in your best-friend’s arms in a gutter outside a restaurant that contains your soulmate and your abusive ex on a dinner date together.

Your throat is closing up, and you’re not getting enough air, and everything around you is too loud and too bright and too much.

“Hey, Y/N, stay with me. Breathe with me, we’re gonna be okay, okay? Ready, breathe with me.”

“I don’t know if I can do this,” You whisper. You try to breathe with Natasha, try and even out the way your breath is shaking.

It works eventually and you get up. Furiously wiping the tears from your face, you let Natasha take you home.

She doesn’t take you to your apartment, just goes straight to hers and holds you in her bed. 

“I don’t know if I can do this.” It comes out as a sob, and Natasha just holds you tighter. She lets you cry. She always lets you cry.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn’t believe in soulmates. But when Steve tricks him into becoming you roommate, it sends things down a path he never thought he’d go down.

Sunday afternoon rolls around, and the dread rolls around with it.

“I have to go back there, Tash. It’s my apartment too, and I need my stuff for classes tomorrow.”

“That’s your ex in there with him. Your abusive ex.” She folds her arms over her chest.

You mirror her stance. “I’ll be fine. I’ll just run in, grab my stuff, and run back out. I promise.”

After much more arguing, Natasha’s shoulders sag and she huffs out a small, “Fine.”

You steel yourself, putting your hand on the doorknob and opening the door.

You will yourself not to freeze upon seeing her doing the dishes in the kitchen, instead straightening your shoulders and walking to your room.

You shut the door and let your faux confidence sag. You slip to the floor, letting out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

Picking yourself up, you race around your room, collecting everything you need and shoving it in a bag.

When you wander out to the dining room, you realise Bucky isn’t in the apartment. You also realise she’s staring at you.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She spits.

“I- Th-This is my apartment too. I’m just getting some stuff. I’m going again, I won’t bother you,” You stumble over your words, trying to stop the shaking in your hands.

She sneers at you. “You stupid bitch. God I’ve never hated you more in my life. You ruin everything.”

You look down at your feet, nodding slowly. “I know.”

“How pathetic. I don’t know what he sees in you.”

You snap your head up, looking her dead in the eyes. 

“Oh, look at you, so infatuated with him,” She laughs, but then her voice goes grim. “You always were so talented at ruining everything good.”

“I-I don’t… I didn’t…”

“Oh, shut up. You know exactly what you’ve done.” 

When she slams a plate down onto the bench so hard it shatters, you know something is horrifically wrong. One look at the fire in her eyes confirms this. 

“You’ve ruined everything, just like you always do. He wouldn’t stop asking about you. ‘Oh Y/N, where’s Y/N? Y/N won’t answer my texts.’,” She mocks, looking disgusted. “He’s supposed to be in love with me! Not you, me!” 

A piece of the shattered plate goes flying past your head and into the wall behind you, shattering even further.

You look at her, eyes wide and body trembling, and try reasoning with her.

“C-Come on, I’ll- I’ll leave you alone, I promise. I promise, I’ll leave you alone!” The rational part of your brain is in overdrive, screaming at you to get out of there, and get out of there fast, but your feet are rooted to the floor.

Another jagged piece goes flying, this time hitting you squarely in the temple. You feel the skin split, feel the blood running down your face. Your hands fly to the wound and you back away. “You-you don’t have to do this.”

“But, see, Y/N. I do. If I don’t teach you a lesson you’ll ruin everything for everyone else as well.” She sounds manic as she begins randomly smashing plates and throwing the broken pieces in your direction.

You throw your hands up around your head and curl yourself against the wall, whimpering as shards hit your body in random spots. 

The only thing keeping you from blacking out is your fear of dying by her hand.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn’t really believe in soulmates. But when Steve tricks him into becoming your roommate, it sends things down a path he never thought he’d go down.

When she finally runs out of things to chuck that are within easy reach, you get up on shaky legs and make your way to the door, treading as lightly as possible as she digs through the cupboards for more to throw.

You inwardly cringe at the feeling of glass and china in the soles of your feet, but getting away is your top priority.

You fling yourself out the door, running down the hall as fast as your trembling legs will carry you.

Choked screeches escape you when a plate smashes against the wall to your left.

A door is flung open from somewhere in the hall and you begin trying to call for help. The only thing that manages to escape your throat is more choked screams and sobs.

Another glass smashes, this time closer to you, and you let out an inhuman shriek as you fall to the floor, throwing your hands over your head in a feeble attempt to protect yourself.

“You goddamn stupid bitch!” You hear her voice, hear her yelling at you, and another wave of adrenaline takes over. You pick yourself up, only to run into a solid wall of person.

“S-Steve?” You force out, voice trembling almost as much as you. He brushes the hair off of your sweaty, blood covered face and calls over his shoulder.

“Natasha!” A familiar red head appears almost instantly.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” She breathes. “I’ll kill whoever did this, I will.”

A glass goes flying, hitting the wall above you and raining little shards of glass. You scream again - a raw, broken sound - throwing yourself behind Steve.

Steve’s face goes from soft to stony as he begins moving down the hall.

You grab his arm, “Steve no. Steve. She’ll kill you, she will,” You croak, and Steve’s gaze hardens even more as he stomps down the hall.

Two more plates go flying.

“What the fuck is going on out he- Holy shit. Y/N?? Are you okay?”

“All due respect, genius boy, but you’re an idiot. No, she’s not okay,” Natasha hisses, and Tony moves to your side.

The rest of your friends follow him out of his apartment, all immediately paling at the sight in front of them.

“You can’t hurt me! You can’t! And you won’t!” She yells merrily, too close for comfort, making you tense up.

“No, I won’t. But she will.”

Natasha moves you into Sam’s arms, stalking down the hallway and socking your ex squarely in the jaw.

You find no satisfaction in the crack the impact makes, instead burying yourself further into Sam.

“You ever, ever, touch her again, and I’ll be breaking more than just your jaw. Do you understand me?”

You watch her scramble away from Natasha, nodding furiously and cradling her jaw.

“Sweetheart? Nat? What the fu-” Bucky spots you - and the tear tracks through the blood on your face - and the bags in his hands fall to the floor with a loud clatter.

“Y/N?”


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn’t really believe in soulmates. But when Steve convinces him into becoming your roommate, it sends things down a path he never thought he’d go down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so; when you meet your soulmate, a tattoo-like ‘x’ (coloured storm-grey) appears on your ribcage and just over your heart. when you lose a soulmate (whether that be through death or something like what happened between the reader and their ex) the little ‘x’ scars and eventually fades. i like this because there’s no real way of telling who your soulmate is, especially if you interact with a lot of people.

Bucky runs over to you, pulling you from Sam and placing his hands on your face - thumbs brushing cheekbones, palms smoothing down hair.

You look everywhere but him, and would probably be able to hear his heart break if it weren’t for your ex screaming in the background.

“You’re supposed to ask how I am! Not her! She fucks up everything, she’ll ruin your life! Buckyyyyyyyyyy,” She whines.

“She sure does whinge well for someone with a broken jaw,” You mumble, voice still shaking, finally looking at Bucky.

He laughs - a small, watery laugh. You notice he’s almost in tears, and looks so incredibly relieved to hear you talking to him.

Bucky’s hands slip from your face, and he takes three steps before you grab him, pulling him back and putting a hand on his face to pull his attention to you.

“Hey, hey, James! She’s not worth it. C’mon, look at me, focus on me.” Bucky doesn’t let up, staring at your ex so hard you’re worried he might kill her if you let go. “James, please,” Your voice cracks and your grip on his arm loosens, but he’s immediately moving back to you - eyes that were once rock hard now as soft and sweet as honey.

You watch his gaze harden again as he turns and hisses at her, “You’re so damned lucky the only bone broken in your body right now is your jaw. If i had my way it’d be your neck. Ever show your face here again, and I promise it will be.” This shuts her up and she stumbles when she runs away, a pained sob falling from her mouth.

“James,” You whisper. His words and the events that have just unfolded are finally starting to register, and bile is starting to burn a path in your chest and up your throat.

“Y/N, I’m s-”

You shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you will yourself not to vomit everywhere. Sucking in a few deep breaths you manage, “’S not your fault.” Another deep breath, “You didn’t- You didn’t know.”

Bucky’s face is tight with concern and - guilt? “I should’ve- I should’ve known. When you left for the weekend, when I saw you and Natasha at the restaurant. God I’m such an idiot.”

“I suppose I am too.”

His brows knit together, his forehead creased in confusion. “What do you mean?”

You take a deep breathe, lifting the hem of your sweater to reveal the storm-grey ‘x’ sitting just over your heart. “I should’ve told you,” You breathe, watching his face as he studies the mark.

He brushes his thumb over the tiny ‘x’, touch feather-light. He’s crying, you realise with a start. He’s crying and it’s all my fault, oh my God she’s right I ruin lives I-

“Why- why didn’t you tell me?” He’s still staring, still running his thumb over the mark.

“Because you didn’t say anything, didn’t show any signs, and then you came home and you looked so happy when you said that you’d met this girl. I- I couldn’t take that from you.”

“God I wish you had. We’d never have gotten into this mess.”

You start crying, putting your head in the crook of his neck as the bile tries to make a return entrance. You wish the same.

“Shhhh, you’re okay now. You’re here, you’re with me. And you’re safe,” He whispers into your hair.

“A-are you…”

“I’ve got the same mark, just across my heart. She had it too, and I thought…”

“It’s a tattoo.”

“What?”

You move to face him. “It’s a tattoo that she has, she lures people in with it. She’s crazy.”

“I’m so sorry,” He whispers, wiping the tears from your cheeks. Your eyes flutter closed at his touch, but you will yourself not to pass out.

“Me too, James. Me too,” You sigh, opening your eyes and looking up at the ceiling. “And no matter what the other says, we’ll always blame ourselves.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn’t really believe in soulmates. But when Steve tricks him into becoming your roommate, it sends things down a path he never thought he’d go down.

Bucky finds you sitting in the window seat, knees tucked up to your chin. Your cheek is resting on your knee, and your tired gaze is fixed on something outside the window.

“Nightmares?” He asks. In truth, your tormented screaming had woken him from his own fitful sleep. He’d tried not to notice the trash bags full of everything in your entire kitchen, sitting in a pile by the front door like some grotesque shrine to your trauma.

“Something like that,” You mumble, raising your tired eyes to see his face.

You look exhausted.

“Can I-?” He gestures to the window seat.

“Oh right, of course.” You move, your back hitting the wall, and he sits and leans back against the opposite wall.

You spin to him and shuffle a little closer, throwing your legs over the top of his.

“You okay?” He tries to search your eyes for an answer, but you close yourself off by looking away. He tries to fight the sigh in his throat.

“‘M fine.” Your voice wobbles as you turn your gaze to the window. You notice the bags under your eyes and the crumpled way your shirt sits on your frame.

“Y/N.” His voice drops in concern. Placing one finger under your chin, he tilts your face up so he can get a better look. “I know you’re not okay.”

“Then why ask?” You shoot at him, immediately biting the inside of your cheek at the harshness of your words.

He looks like a wounded puppy, eyes wide and sad. “I care about you, Y/N. I was trying to get you to talk to me.”

“Not much to talk about,” You find yourself mumbling again.

“Y/N,” He insists.

“It’s just trauma, okay? I’m traumatised. Is that what you wanted to hear? Little Y/N who should always be happy is not.” Your voice cracks when he puts his arms around you, shifting you into his lap.

Your head pressed against his chest, his hands pressed against the small of your back, you start to cry.

“It’s just trauma,” You force out through your sobs. It almost sounds like you’re trying to reassure yourself that there’s a reasonable explanation for the terror that woke you up only hours before.

“I know. It’s okay.” He moves one of his hands to your hair, stroking it. “She won’t hurt you anymore.”

“I know that, but it doesn’t mean I’m not scared,” You sniff and pull away to look up at him.

“And that’s okay. Nothing wrong with being afraid of something.” He smiles. Your eyes are drawn to his lips, how soft they look, how pretty he is.

I’m so close I could kiss him.

Your breath catches at the thought, at how wrong this should be (I’m vulnerable and will hold on to anyone or anything that offers me affection I should really get away before this messes everything up oh God), but you’re leaning in anyway.

He watches you for a second before he catches on, placing a gentle kiss to your lips. His are soft and warm (exactly as you’d expected), yours salty with your tears. 

When you pull away, your face is flushed a deep pink and he chuckles.

“You’re adorable. Adorable and I could kiss you all the time.”

Your face flushes even deeper, and he pulls you in again, laughing against your lips.

“I think I love you, James,” You whisper against his lips, as he pulls you further onto his lap, your hips flush against his.

“I know I love you, Y/N, and I’ll always be here.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky doesn’t really believe in soulmates. But when Steve tricks him into becoming your roommate, it sends things down a path he never thought he’d go down.

two months later

You wake up to find yourself alone, the sheets next to you rumpled but cold.

Worry seeps into your bones for a split second (was this all some awful dream? I think this every morning brain shut the hell up.), but then you smell freshly brewed coffee, and hear someone humming in the kitchen.

You sag with relief before climbing out of bed and stretching.

Your feet make no sound as you pad into the kitchen, coming up behind the gorgeous form standing at the stove.

“Morning,” You whisper into his back, your arms wrapping around him to rest on his front.

He spins in your grip. “Morning doll. You sleep okay?”

You hum your affirmation into his chest, feeling him chuckle as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“If you want, we can have breakfast and go back to bed? Neither of us have classes today.” You perk up at his words, nodding furiously as he laughs. “You just like snuggles.”

Heat rushes to your cheeks, and you nod meekly. “Guilty as charged.”

“Not a bad thing, baby. You’re the perfect size - like you were made for me.”

You turn your head to kiss the spot where his mark rests. “’Cause I was.”

“’Cause you were,” He whispers, drawing your face to his for a kiss.

Even after two months of being together, his kisses are intoxicating. Making you weak in the knees, wanting to lose yourself in the way his lips move against yours.

It feels nice to have something like that, something warm and good and safe.

Bucky pulls away. “You know what? Coffee’s ready. I say we just scrap breakfast and go back to bed.”

Your stomach chooses that exact moment to rumble, causing Bucky to break out into laughter.

“I have a fruit salad in the fridge, that’ll do.” You reluctantly pull away from Bucky and shuffle over to the fridge. “James, could you get me a spoon?”

“Of course.”

You grab your fruit salad, along with the spoon Bucky’s holding for you, and all but bolt to the bedroom. Bucky follows with both cups of coffee.

You let Bucky settle in first before climbing onto the bed and settling yourself between his legs. Bucky wraps one arm around your waist and puts the other on your thigh, where the hem of his sweater is resting.

“Netflix?” 

“Netflix.”

“Maybe Netflix will be our always,” He jokes, causing you to almost choke on a piece of apple at the reference.

“Brooklyn 99?”

“Brooklyn 99.”

“Maybe Bro-”

“James, I love you. But you need to stop.”

“I love you too.” He leans down to press a kiss to your cheek. You can feel him smiling and his stubble scratching at the soft skin of your face, making you giggle.

“Okay, now to my other love.”

“Jake? Amy? Holt? Terry? Gina? Charles? Rosa?”

“I was gonna say the show in general, babe. You know I can’t choose a favourite.”

“Of course not,” He chuckles, pulling you close and pressing play.

This. This is the best development that could’ve ever happened to you.

I’ll have to thank Steve later.


End file.
